Lipsticks and Gearsticks
by men-that-sparkle
Summary: Isabella is a rich 'IT' girl. When she moves to Forks to stay with her father, an unfortunate accident leaves her, and a certain guy named Edward ; , stranded. What will they do?
1. Those damn Manolo shoes

**Hey, so, its my first ever fan fic! I don't know what it will be like, or how good it will be, I just wanted to write one after reading SO many on here. So, here it is! Pleaaaaase read + review- I wont post an update unless I have 15 reviews, because I don't want to be writing to nobody :') I'm looking for a Beta, so, if anyone is interested, mail me : ) thank you : )**

"Look, Isabella, just take the tickets, and please, don't make this any harder than it is?" Renee pleaded with me. I grabbed the tickets from her hand and stuffed them into the Louis Vuitton tote. I heard her sigh after me as I all walked as quickly as my Manolo's would allow me, out of the 4 storey mansion, and down its slate gravel path.

Clicking the button on my white Volkswagen Beetle, I ignored Renee's remorseful look from where she stood on the patio. She _should_ feel guilty for sending me there. I slammed the car into reverse and swung out of the drive in one fluid motion.

As soon as I was three blocks away from my house, I pulled into a grubby looking diner. I needed coffee, and even though this place look like it hadn't seen a bottle of cleaning fluid since it had been opened, at that moment in time-any coffee was good coffee.

I could hear my Blackberry Curve bleeping from somewhere in my bag that I had slung on the backseat, but I ignored it. I knew it would be Renee, or some other bitch booking me for a magazine shoot. _God, I hated this life. _Some people craved attention and stardom, but for me, it couldn't be more different. I yearned to be normal; I was thrown into this life by my money-grabbing mother, forced to parade up and down catwalks like some air headed clone. She loved to show me off to her friends from a young age - I was never a daughter, just simply a possession that she could show off to her friends, who were equally just as plastic as she is. When the time came for me to do modeling, I was catapulted across the world to spend half a minute on the runway. She got paid, and I got paid in clothes. I enjoyed it for the first few years of my career. Then the tedious monotony of it all took its strain. Renee had this idea that I would become an 'it' girl, who just 'happens' to turn up to any major social event, and seen by the paparazzi constantly. These type of girls earn money from just showing up and getting the media excited with their presence. Once they because well known, the work would fly in; commercials, photo shoots, endorsement freebies. This was the life Renee wanted for me. Not once, can I recall, during my _whole_ life, did she ever stop to ask me how I felt about it all. Sure, my opinion got heard occasionally, such as whether the Giuseppe Zanotti shoes would be better in red or black, but never about the lifestyle choice that was chosen for me. I don't think that she ever considered that I would be unhappy with it - she would give anything to have it. Which is why it doesn't surprise me that as soon as she got the call congratulating her on getting the job of a shiny new, plastic PR manager, she was straight on the phone to Charlie, asking if I could stay with him for a few months. _Ha. 'A few months'. Who is she trying to kid?_ I knew Renee would just abandon me for as long as it took for her to get into 'the industry'. And when she did eventually get in, I would then be sent to her, for her to drag me round the world on a notorious money-making scheme.

Sighing, I collected my Gucci tote that she had pre-packed for me. Because she already _knew _I was going, she just thought that, you know, being the kind person that she is, she should inform me at some point. How thoughtful of her. _Not. _Rifling through the bag, I discarded most of the clothes in the back seat. I was going to _Forks_ - not Arizona! _When would I ever need these?_ I slung a pair of 6" platform shoe-boots into the back seats. Renee always picked my clothes for me. She said it 'maximized the press' depending on what I was wearing. For the 4-hour plane ride to Forks, I had been instructed to wear an outfit that apparently 'oozed chic and sophistication'. I had been stuffed into a short, baby doll dress, with a thin racer back and gold buckles down the front. The fabric was a shiny gold and covered in pink flowers. The dress was beautiful, but not for traveling. I knew by the end of my flight, I would hate it. I would also hate the Miu Miu sandals that had been stuffed onto my feet, their patent straps cutting grooves into my toes. Renee had also thrown a vintage Chanel necklace around my neck, a gift from her, that she picked up in an auction for over $900 whilst in San Tropez. _So not traveling wear_, I thought to myself.

I checked my watch. I had over 6 hours before I needed to get to the airport. I figured I could get something to eat in the diner that I was parked at. Even if I might have to clean the cutlery myself before I use it, it doesn't seem like the kind of place that's so bothered with hygiene. Sweeping another coat of Bobbi Brown lip gloss in Pink Buff, I stepped out of the car and onto the dusty path.

The small diner looked like it was originally red, but the paint was now a faded pink and peeling, showing the ugly bricks underneath. I stepped towards the door, and extending a finger - not wanting to touch the door any more than I had to - I pushed it open. A distant _brrr_ing noise rang shrilly from somewhere inside, alerting the staff of my arrival. A acne-infested boy of around 17 popped his head around the counter.

"Well, hello there! How are you?" he said with a wink.

_Eurgh- that really _is_ disgusting. He's like 12!_

"Um, fine, thank you, can I have a menu please?" I replied.

"Darling, you can have whatever you want" he smirked, holding out a laminated menu for me. I took it quickly and sat down, but I could feel his eyes burning into my back. Damn Renee for making me wear this fucking dress. I hated it. I hated attention, which would surprise most of the press. They, of course, would think that I _loved _attention, when in fact, I hated it. It was Renee that loved attention, in any way, shape, or form. She would spend hours going over my press cuttings, scribbling comments down in a black biro, telling me things like 'Smile sweetly if your at a event; you should seem ecstatic to be there!' and 'Make your face moody when coming from a meeting; the press will wonder what was said!'. She would then pass the notes back to me, and I would have to read them and adapt to them. She called them her 'Guru guides', because they supposedly increased my press coverage. _Yeah, right, _I thought. _The reason my press increased was because I _made _it increase; practically the only time I put effort into my job. If only Renee knew _that….

I realized that waiter was still standing by my table, pen at the ready to jot down my order. "I'll have a cappuccino, please." He nodded and walked behind the counter. Punching a few buttons into the machine that stood on a greasy worktop, it produced a plastic cup and, after a few clunks and a continuous whirring noise, some form of caffeine trickled down into the cup. The waiter, if I could even call him that, grabbed the cup and walked quicker than necessary towards my table. Putting it down, he smiled again, his eyes slowly drifting towards my cleavage. "Thanks for this, here," I said, throwing a 5 dollar bill onto the table "take this and keep the change!" I grabbed the steaming cup and walked quickly out of the diner. I dropped the coffee into the nearest trash can; it really didn't look worth drinking.

I drove idly to the airport, not caring if I missed my plane. _So what? _I thought. _if I missed my plane, it could be another 48 hours before there's another one, and the longer time to wait, the less time I have to spend in Forks. _

I hated Forks. I grew up there with my mother, until I was 4, and then had to make frequent visits back to see Charlie until I was 16, which was when I finally put my foot down. Forks is a tiny little town, where the population of deer was probably more than the people. It rains a ridiculous amount of time a year, and, although I have to admit the pattering of rain on the window _does _relax me, but the rain _ruins_ my hair. I have naturally curly hair which, thanks to many a beauty product, is tamed into submission. The rain, however, brings out its natural state and I look like a walking tumbleweed. This is one of many, _many_ reasons why I hated Forks.

I pulled up at the airport and parked the Beetle. Grabbing my LV, I said a silent goodbye to my beloved car, and started towards the entrance. Inside the tiny airport, _two _check-in desks sat in front of my, and only one of them was manned. "Can I help you?", asked a 30-something woman. She appraised my appearance with a raised eyebrow. "Ah, yes, you must be Isabella Swan," she spat at me. "Follow me." She stalked off down a passageway, and I had to jog to keep up with her. "The plane is arriving in five minutes. Wait over there for now." She waved a poorly-manicured hand in the direction of the sparse seating area, where only 5 people sat. _Wow, people sure are flocking to Forks in their thousands. _

The plane arrived a few minutes later, and I boarded and was seated within 5 minutes. I settled back in the first class seats- a stipulation by me to Renee. If I was going to travel constantly to make _her_ money, I should at least be allowed to travel in comfort.

The plane took off and I slept for the full 4 hours, and awoke to the cabin crew telling me we were landing soon. I felt refreshed after my sleep, and that should make my first meeting with Charlie in over 3 years more bearable. I felt guilty for not speaking to him for that long, but ringing him caused him to ask the inevitable question: when do I want to visit Forks again? Since the answer to that was never, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings, I figured not calling was the best thing to do. And besides, Charlie didn't call _me_ either, so he clearly didn't miss me.

The plane soon landed, and low and behold, it was raining. Great. I tugged on a Stella McCartney Mac and stepped onto the smooth tarmac. I headed through security, and there, standing at the entrance, was Charlie. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for meeting him again. It was going to be a _long _ride home.

**Okay, so, to be honest, I'm totally not sure whether people will like this or not, so, like I said, I'm not going to continue writing until I get 15 reviews. Or someone saying they'd love me to continue. Either way, I'd be really really happy :D So please review- good or bad :D **


	2. Cars and carbs

Hello! :)_ Thank you to EVERYONE who made me a favourite story/author; every email I received just made me smile so much :D BIIIIIG thanks to DivineInspiration for my first review! :') It made me smile, I appreciate it a lot. So keep the review coming! ;D _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Or the characters. But I do own the Twilight AND New Moon DVD. Yeaaaah. ;D_

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"Hey Bells!" Charlie enveloped me into a huge hug, which somehow broke the ice between us. He offered to carry my bag back to the car, which I was horrified to find was the cruiser. I told him bluntly last week that I refused to ride around in the cruiser. If it wasn't for the stripes running down both sides, or the blue and red flashing light attached to the top, it was the slow, slow traffic that comes with it. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop. I guess Charlie was more loyal to the cruiser than he was to me, as it sat proudly in the car lot, much to my dismay.

"Huh. You brought the cruiser?" I said to Charlie, chuckling lightly.

"Erm, Yeah, I hope that's okay? I know you didn't want me to bring it, but, well, there's only one other car and I wanted it to be a surprise. I bought it for you, its waiting at home" He replied, looking sheepish as he fiddled with the keys.

"Oh, wow Char- _Dad_, you didn't have to buy me a car!" I cringed at the thought of the car. Although it was a nice gesture, the amount of _nice_ cars available in Forks were slim. Which meant my car was most probably a heap of rusted metal. _Great. _

The ride home was only 15 minutes, but it was full of awkward small talk between myself and Charlie. The 3 year absence between us both was _definitely_ taking its toll. We finally heaved a stop outside the small, 2 bedroom house that, until I was 5, I was raised in.

"Well, here we are Bells. I'll just get your bags." Charlie stepped out of the cruiser while I exhaled a long sigh. _If that was only a short ride home, what's the next few months going to be like?_

I sat on my childhood bed, still with the same deep purple duvet as before, and took a long deep breath. After Charlie showed me to my room, he left me to get unpacked, but after almost an hour of sitting up here and glaring at the blank screen of the TV, I felt I needed to go downstairs and face Charlie.

I tugged off my dress and threw it to a dark corner of my room. Rifling through my bag for something comfy, I found a pair of magenta Juicy Couture track pants. Granted, I wanted to be comfy, but I'll be damned if I'm walking round in front of Charlie with Gucci plastered across my ass.

Walking downstairs in my Juicy pants, I cursed Renee. It seems it never occurred to her that I might need something_ practical_ to wear during my stay. The only other alternative was a Jay Goodfrey chiffon dress, in a tangerine orange, which was slightly to short to be considered 'normal'. Im sure Charlie would be too embarrassed to mention it, so I walked into the kitchen.

"Bella, I was just making dinner-" Charlie paused momentarily as I turned with my back to him to reach a glass from the counter. "Uh, yeah, I was just making dinner. I hope you like enchiladas?"

"Does it contain carbs?" I asked bluntly. I was on a strict diet by Renee, and there would be hell to pay if I gained a precious pound.

"Uh, yeah, its bread tortillas, so…"

I bit my lip. I didn't want to gain weight; the effect it would have on the press and therefore my salary would be huge. And so would my ass. But, on the other hand, how long is it since ive had _carbs?_ I wasn't even allowed to freaking utter the taboo word in front of Renee and her air headed clique! _Jeeez, I cant believe im fucking contemplating eating _carbs!

"Yeah that's great! Thanks Charlie!" I replied. _Fuck you, Renee. ._

I helped myself to a large portion of enchiladas, relishing in the thought of putting on weight, and, as a result, the mask of horror plastered onto Renee's face.

"So, Bella, about your new car…" Charlie started. "Its in the garage, if you want to have a look?"

"Sure" I smiled. I could see that Charlie was apprehensive about me not liking it, so I prepared myself to plaster a smile on my face.

We walked to the garage door, and Charlie propped it open, giving me full view of the car. Well, truck. A 1950's Chevvy truck, which looked to have been a deep red, but the paintwork was now chipped.

"Well, what d'ya think?"

"Uh, it's great Charlie, it really is," I smiled. "Is it a…manual?" I gulped the words. I'd only ever driven automatics, which meant more driving lessons for me. There was no way I'd ever be able to drive this _thing._

"Oh god Bells! No, im sorry, I never thought! Um…we have a really good driving instructor in town; he lives about 10minutes away, and I'm sure he'll give you lessons. I know his father."

"Its fine, Charlie, honestly. I'll call him up tomorrow, then, and see about getting some lessons. It shouldn't be too hard". My words didn't convince me any more than the did Charlie. We both know it took 6 tries, almost 7 (if not for the hefty amount of cash Renee slipped the instructor) for me to pass my test. Hopefully, because I already had a good knowledge of the road and how a car operated, it shouldn't be too hard. _Yeah, right, keep telling yourself that Bella. _

I plucked my Blackberry from my handbag, and dialed a number that Charlie had scrawled down on his way out to work. It was the number of my new driving instructor. My stomach churned at those two words. _Driving instructor. Lovely. _Dialing the number, I steadied my breath and practiced what I was going to say. I rarely made phone calls, and the ones I did make- awkwaaaaaard.

I didn't think anyone was going to pick up, as the tone went on for a while. I was just about to hang up when suddenly, a voice shocked me. It was a velvety voice, the sort that could be masculine but soft at the same time.

"Hello?"

"Um, hi! My name is…" _Oh God, ive forgotten my own name. Think! _"Bella! My name is Bella, and I would like to book some driving lessons, please."

"Sure. I don't really do lessons anymore, I'm qualified and everything, but I find the job slightly tedious working everyday." He laughed gently.

"Oh! I'm sorry, my dad, Charlie Swan, recommended you, as I need to learn how to drive a manual. I only learnt automatic." I replied, cringing slightly as I said how I can only drive automatics. _Yeah, spoilt little rich kid who can only drive autos. Great first impression. _

"Chief Swan? If you need to know how to drive a manual, you'll only need a few lessons, seeing as though you already know that basics of driving. When would you like to book your lessons?"

"Anytime." I sighed. "Its not as if I have anything else to do; ive only just moved back here, so I don't know anyone particularly, so there's no chance of me missing any pressing social event."

He laughed, "I'm sure you'll meet some people soon, it's a pretty small town. Well, I'm not busy today, if you wanted to take your first lesson?"

"Sure, today's great."

"Good, I'll pick you up around twelve. Goodbye."

"Okay, see you then." I replied. "Wait!" But he had already disconnected. I didn't get his name. I didn't even know what car he had. _How did he even know where I lived? _

I got wore a simple white summer dress and ballet pumps, as I thought high heels may be a _little _hard to drive in. I combed my hair up into a messy bun, and swept a sticky coat of gloss on my lips. I paced the house. I was nervous; not only for the lessons, but for meeting my instructor. I wanted to give the right impression, but I didn't know why. When I normally met new people, I was told what to say to them, how to act. And usually, I didn't care what _they_ thought about me, as long as I got good press and kept Renee happy. But with this guy, there was no press. There was no reason for me to act around him. I had to be myself. But I was so used to being the Barbie doll Renee demanded me to be, I honestly didn't know who 'myself' was.

I heard a car pull up outside, and I grabbed my bag, with my car keys and phone in. I left a note for Charlie, explaining where I was. The knock at the door sent butterflies into my stomach, and I scoffed. _Why was I acting like this? _I opened the door….to the most _gorgeous _man I had ever seen!

He had tousled copper-brown hair that glinted in the sunlight. He had a chiseled appearance, with a prominent jaw line and high cheekbones. His face was pale, with just a hint of tan. He had deep emerald eyes that searched my face. His lips, a beautiful red colour, appeared to be moving, and that's when I was shocked back into reality. I was too dazed to even remember what he had just said.

"Uh, hello" I said, trying to form a coherent sentence.

"Hello, my name is Edward Cullen. I'm your new driving instructor."

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Oooh, HELLO Edward! ;)_

_Okay, guys, I read a FanFic the other day, and, although it was good, it was so poorly written. I checked the reviews on it, and NO-ONE had said about the amount of spelling mistakes + things in it, and I got really worried. Because ive only had one review. So I could be writing, and people could be reading it and thinking 'OH. MY. GOD. What IS she thinking?' because its not Beta'd. So pleaaaaase tell if you spot something that needs to be edited, or if its just simply rubbish. :D_

**Remember to check my profile for links to the Polyvores (collages) I do, they're just basically most of the outfits and items that are featured in the chapters :) I apologise for how bad the latest one is, but it was hard to find a specific colour scheme for the items that I wanted. But ah well.**

Should I do EPOV? Review, review, review! :D 


	3. Shut up and drive

Hello :) I know its been a long time since I've updated, and they are _still_ small chapters, and for that I'm sorry. The next time I update, it will be in a month, or less, and will be a longer chapter, I promise.

I've finally got a Beta! So thank you to **Tina Cullen** for editing this for me :)

I am ASHAMED at my pathetic attempts with Polyvore this week; due to the lack of items mentioned in this chapter, its extremly sparse, but, nonetheless, its _there. _:)

Thanks to my faithful reviewer **DivineInspiration**- your reviews make me smile :D

_Disclaimer: You only have to check my bank account to see that I don't own Twilight._

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_Well, hello Edward Cullen_, I thought_. _He was gorgeous. My heart beat erratically at the sheer sight of him. I had never felt this way before; I was never _allowed_ to feel this way before.

"Hello, it's Bella, right?" He asked.

"Swan. Bella Swan." I cringed; it sounded like I was trying to be James Bond, only not nearly as suave and a total idiot. And to make matters worse, I offered him my hand. Oh. My. God. _Shoot me now._

"Well, Swan Bella Swan," he said, chuckling darkly while I turned the color of my magenta M٠A٠C lipstick. "I'm very pleased that you feel ready to take lessons now, although you sounded a little uncertain on the phone…"

_You have _no _idea, _I thought. "Haha, just wait until you see me driving. You'll understand."

"Well, sooner better then later, right?" He grinned.

"Sure. Just let me grab my coat."

I tried to collect my thoughts whilst in the kitchen, putting on my jacket. _My god he was gorgeous! _I checked my appearance in the mirror again, smoothing down my hair and spraying a little Chanel Chance on my neck. When I walked back out into the hall, I saw him breathe in deeply, a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth. I pretended not to notice, and waltzed past him out the front door.

I stood on the front porch, waiting for him to exit the house so I could lock up. That was when I saw his car. A silver Volvo. _A silver Volvo. _This could _not _be happening. It was just too much bad karma. Maybe this is God's way of saying 'Hey Bella, what are you thinking trying to drive? Go back into the house and play with some shoes, there's a good girl.' _No, I can do this, _I told myself, trying to supress the wave of nausea that came partnered with the surge of flashbacks dancing through my mind. _That was a long time ago - forget it Bella! _

"Something wrong?" Edward asked, noticing my rigid stance.

"No, no, everything's fine." I smiled.

Locking the door, I took a deep breath before plastering what I hoped looked like a brave smile on my face. I wobbled down the concrete drive, suddenly wet with the endless torrent of rain that spilled through the flimsy clouds above me. _So not driving weather, _I thought, as I opened my Louis Vuitton umbrella.

I stepped into the car that Edward was already sat in, and buckled my seat belt whilst he adjusted the music controls. Glancing around the car, I was surprised; it was much cleaner than I'd expected, _much_ cleaner than mine, but I hardly had time to clean mine with all the social events Renee piled on my shoulders. He was still tuning the radio when I clicked my seatbelt in. He gave me a reassuring smile as music filtered softly through the speakers.

"I find this kind of music relaxing for people… but you can choose whatever you like" he smiled sheepishly.

"Debussy?"

"You like Claire de Lune?" He asked, shock and amusement gracing his perfect face.

"Yes, I love listening to the piano, but I can't play it. I _did_ take lessons in fourth grade, but I got bored and quit. So now my iPod fulfils my desire for it." I grinned, while Edward chuckled. It was lovely to see him smile, his eyes scrunching up, small lines around the corners of his mouth becoming more prominent, and made me want to smile myself.

"Right, time to get started, Bella?" He asked.

I almost corrected him on my name; I've always hated being called Bella. But it somehow seemed right. It seemed nice. So I left it. Coupled with the fact he seemed to have no clue as to who I was, career wise, I liked that I was another person- not having to keep up a spoilt-rich-girl façade, and by him calling me by an entirely different name, it almost separated the Isabella that Renee had created, to the Bella, the _real_ me, now sat in the car with the beautiful Edward Cullen.

I gingerly slotted the key into the hole, and turning it gently, the engine purred to life. I slowly pressed my foot on the gas pedal, and the car inched forward. I breathed slowly, and gently nudged the pedal again with my foot. The car then rolled forward, maintaining a steady speed, whilst I tried to make my heartbeat do the same.

"That's perfect, Bella, you're doing great. But… you don't need to hold onto the steering wheel _quite _so hard." He chuckled.

"Oh, right," I laughed. I hadn't even noticed that I was, yet now he had distracted me, I felt calmer. His carefree laughter rung in the air, and a small smile played around my lips. _Oh jeez, _I inwardly scoffed, _you _cannot_ like this guy. You've known him for what, ten minutes? Get a grip, Bella!_

I snapped out of my mental argument and turned to Edward. His lips were moving, and then I realized he was talking to me.

"…so just do that, and you should be fine." He smiled, searching my eyes for a sign of understanding.

"Um, okay." I pretended to have listened to what he said, and now I would have to guess my way through driving. I continued pressing on the gas whilst maneuvering the wheel, until I heard a low scraping sound. My eyes flew wildly to my hand placed on the gear stick, having some idea that it was causing the noise, but having no idea how to fix it.

"I said put it into third when driving normally," Edward said, placing his palm over mine. I was vaguely aware of him moving the gear stick, but my attention was entirely taken up by the electricity that pulsed in the car. The sudden shock of his palm on mine had made an electric flow that ran throughout my entire body, and I would bet my whole wardrobe he could feel it too; his shocked eyes gave away that much. The two of us just sat in silence for a few seconds, until he finally broke by grabbing the steering wheel, swerving, and narrowly avoiding a street lamp.

"Oh! Sorry…I…" I stuttered.

He cleared his throat. "Its fine, Bella, everyone gets nervous. Let's just take it slow."

I nodded, and watched as he kept his gaze fixed on the road, his brow furrowed in concentration. Or confusion.

I arrived home to an empty house, which didnt surprise me, seeing as though Charlie told me he worked late almost every night. After the electric moment between me and Edward, things seemed a little awkward, which most _definitely _affected my driving. He told me the basic rules of the gear stick, which seemed to dissipate the moment they left his mouth. I couldn't take it all in. I had never _had_ to learn before; turning up at events wearing an Alexander Wang doesn't take that much knowledge. I vowed to study tonight, ready for my next lesson that Edward had arranged with me. Tomorrow. The very thought of it sent butterflies into my stomach, and I groaned. _I guess all this new__found freedom away from Renee was taking its toll. _As if on cue, the phone rang, and I knew exactly who it would be.

I picked up the receiver from its hook, and had barely put it to my ear before I heard Renee's voice screeching at me.

"BELLA! Honey, are you okay? Where are you? I haven't seen you in the papers in DAYS!"

I fumed silently. This was how Renee connected with me. Through the fucking press! Blood boiled in my veins, I could feel it pulsing in my temple. If I wasn't in the newspapers that week, then maybe, just maybe, my MOTHER should check I was okay! If I didn't make the gossip columns, maybe she should check I was still freakin' ALIVE!

"Yes, Renee, of course I'm okay. I've been gone for three days, in case you hadn't noticed, so there's no need to be frantically checking the papers for confirmation of my appearance, seeing as though you seem to forget me pretty quickly. Also, you'll be THRILLED to know that I have been wearing designer clothes recently, but due to the small amount of press circulating Forks and the surrounding areas, I haven't been photographed wearing any. So, Renee, expect a very _small_ income this month, but it should be just enough to pay for your protein shakes to maintain your ever-so-healthy lifestyle. Get in touch when you remember you have a daughter, not a Barbie. Goodbye, Renee."

I hung up on her, although she wasn't saying anything anyway. I crumpled to the floor, feeling deflated. I had bottled that up for the past 17 years now. And as much as it felt good to let it all out, I knew there was more. I was like a volcano; lava accumulating inside of me for years until suddenly I erupted.

I made some lasagna, not fully concentrating on what I was doing. At 8pm, Charlie still wasn't back, so I plated up some for him and left instructions of how to warm it up. Trudging up the stairs, I ambled into the shower, welcoming the steaming hot water to relax my muscles.

I threw on a pair of sweats, pulled my hair into a loose ponytail, and climbed into bed. The rain was pattering on the window, and I found it strangely comforting. I used to detest the sound; it reminded me that I was confined within these four walls with the only escape being the rain drenched forest. Not like I would be allowed out anyway- Renee's stipulation was that I don't do anything that could ruin my appearance temporarily, and rain water would _definitely_ do that.

I snuggled down under my purple comforter, my bedside lamp casting a warm glow across my room and softening shadows. I watched the raindrops gather along my windowsill, feeling myself slowing slip into unconsciousness. I fell into a deep slumber with only one thing on my mind. Edward.

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Review, review, review! :)

And check out my profile for the _embarrasing_ attempt at Polyvore this week! 


	4. Explaining

**Hello, I know it's been so long since my last update, and for that I'm truly sorry. I totally lost heart in this story completely; mainly due to my Beta, who basically told me that this story wasn't worth continuing with. She was a good Beta, but I just lost all heart in the story with the constant cynicism towards it. It took alot of considering, but eventually, the email update saying that someone else had added me to their favourite authors reminder finally made me realise that there's people waiting for the story. So, lgarza1313, you basically saved the story :')**

**I know this is a short chapter, and I know I promised a longer one, with an EPOV, but since I stopped writing it, I havent wanted to start again. But I'm starting tomorrow, so an EPOV should be up within a few days. Enjoy :)**

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I awoke early to the continuous sound of the rain on the window. It didn't look like it had stopped at all in the night, and I sighed, thinking of the blistering heat that beat down almost 24/7 back in Arizona.

Sitting up in bed, I glanced around at the chaotic mess that is my room. Clothes were strewn over every surface, piled up high and spilling onto the laminate floor. My desk had practically disappeared from sight, leaving a mound of clothes precariously balanced on top of each other. Pairs of shoes- Choo's, Louboutins, Fendi, Valentino- lay in a heap in the far corner, next to my suitcase, which was empty apart from a few "essential" products Renee had stipulated I bring.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn't that person that she created. I had only been in Forks for a week now, but it made me realize how much she had moulded me, controlled me. She had created the daughter that was right for _her_, the right daughter that she could take to all her friends dinner parties, the daughter that she could dress up and show off, whilst all her socialite acquaintances cooed over me, saying how 'adorable' I looked. That was the greatest achievement for Renee; to have a daughter, a puppet, that everyone else was jealous of. They all raised their own daughters to their high standards, and would go to whatever lengths it took to make them the most favored.

From a young age, I was taught which clothes suited which figure best, whilst other girls at my school were taught how to make fairy cakes. I was taught how to tailor a diet right for the country someone was in, they were taught how to tie their shoelaces. I never wanted to be like them; I never had the choice. Renee would instruct me not to talk to them, as they would influence me and make me childish. I agreed with her from such a tender age, because it was all I knew. I didn't know what she was doing. I didn't know how selfish she was, how it would eventually effect me so much that I would hate her. I simply saw her as the most beautiful, caring mommy that I had ever met. I felt grateful that she looked the way she did, with her flowing, chocolate colored hair, and her high heels and pretty dresses. All the other Moms had simply pony tails, jeans and a plain t-shirt. Renee would turn heads wherever she went, and I loved it. I was so proud of her. I aspired to be like her, until she went too far. She tried to morph me too much, tried to change me into someone that I began to loathe. I hated myself.

Throughout my teenage years, my rebellious side kicked in, and Renee found she couldn't control me. I used to rip up my designer clothes, snap the heels of the shoes that she had bought me. I hated it. She thrust this future upon me with vigor. When I reached 16, she told me that as long as I would behave and earn her money, she would pay for a roof over my head, and any luxury I wanted. I was naïve, and I accepted.

However much I hate Renee, she stayed true to her word and bought a house in the uptown estate of Arizona. I loved that house; it had 4 floors, one of which was mine solely, and I could decorate it however I wished. I lived in the floor, rarely venturing downstairs, because it meant communicating with her. Yes, she kept her side of the deal and of course I kept mine, but that didn't mean I had to converse with her. I found it insufferable to be in the same room as her, so instead I stayed on what was technically my own flat. It had a huge bedroom, with a four poster bed and a gigantic walk in wardrobe. My bathroom was marble, with a Jacuzzi tucked into one corner, alongside the whirlpool bath and shower unit. A vanity unit ran from one length of the room to the other, which was kept fully stocked with any type of cosmetics, facial products, cleansers, cleaners, moisturizers. I only had to ask Renee's assistant, and it would appear a few hours later, filling the vacant space in the cabinet. I also had a kitchen on the third floor, in which stood a white Smeg fridge, which would be filled weekly, but I did not have a say in the contents of it. Renee controlled that part of me as well, as the food I eat affects my weight, and my weight affects my appearance, and my appearance affects her salary. But, its not like I had much time to eat food, seeing as though my filofax was bursting with events that I had to attend to.

On the day of each event, a hairdresser, stylist and makeup artist would be sent to set up on my floor, in one of the rooms specifically for that purpose. The room was the brightest one, and had a huge balcony overlooking the estate. There was a huge vanity mirror, with five spotlights placed in strategic locations to abstain the best light possible. I would be placed in front of that table for most of the day, whilst the makeup artist lathered products onto my face, and the hair stylist teased and tamed my glossy locks into the suitable style. Then I would be whisked off to the stylist, who would present to Renee a rail full of outfits, one of which would cause the most press success, and in effect, the most money for her. Once she had chosen, I would be stuffed into the dress, prepped on the way she wanted me to behave for the evening, and eventually whisked off to whatever lunch function, charity event, fundraiser, ball, that I was invited to. This was my life. Day in, day out.

When Renee told me I had to move in with Charlie, it took me by surprise. I couldn't understand why; sure, my relationship with Renee was becoming more and more strained, but we muddled along, and I figured as long as she earned her money, she would be happy. But she had other ideas, and went behind my back in making the arrangements for me to move to Forks. I was upset when I found out, because although I didn't like staying with Renee, it was a home. I had no attachment to Forks - I hadn't been back since I was 16. I hated Forks. I would ultimately refuse to step out of the house if even the tiniest of speckling of rain graced the sidewalks. And now I was _moving there_. I eventually found out exactly why Renee was moving me there; she had been offered a new job, a PR guru. It was her dream, and she would give up anything and everything to get it. And that meant giving up me.

When I found out this reasoning behind sending her only daughter away, I grabbed my pre-packed LV and stormed out of the house. I could see her crying from the porch that I left her on, but I knew that those tears were not for me. Those tears were for Renee - she was so happy about her new job, knowing the places it could get her, and yet I was bringing her down. I was the one smashing the euphoric state in which she had immersed herself in. She cried for herself because it is the only person she cares for.

I was startled out of my musings by the warning bleeping on my Blackberry. The battery was running low from when I threw it in my bag out of anger. I got up carefully, stretching my limbs as I moved. I must have slept in a funny position as my neck was aching and I yearned for the hot spray of the shower. Rifling around in the back, I noticed how much shit Renee had packed in here. I guess she thought that there would be _some_ press in Forks, _someone_ to take my picture. _Ha, stupid delusional Renee. _I eventually found it, and the charger, and plugged it in. I quickly scanned through the messages, most of them from Renee's publicist, Tanya Denali, sending warning messages implying if I didn't get into the papers soon, my small claim in Renee's fortune could be withdrawn. I rolled my eyes. I would make that money on my own. I was _Isabella Swan; _I'd been making my own money since I was fucking 5! Tanya could threaten me all she wanted, but I knew that reinstating Renee's will to _not_ include me would never happen. Renee knew that as soon as she did that, she was cutting all the ties she had to me, and she would never earn another **penny** on my account ever again.

I sighed again. It seemed the longer I stayed her, the more I realized what a spoilt, rich bitch that I had been turned into. I hated that I was that. Here, in Forks, I knew no-one, and no-one seemed to know me. To them, I was just Chief Swan's daughter, Bella Swan. To everyone beyond Forks, in somewhere that resembled _civilization_, I was Isabella Swan, world famous, bitchy, self centered, vain IT girl. I reveled in the mystery of it all, the freedom to be who I wanted, wear what I wanted, _do_ what I wanted. I decided, upon my musings, I was beginning to like Forks.

After I showered, I pulled on a light cashmere Row Audrey sweater and Gucci jeans. The designer clothes were the only thing that I would truly miss receiving. I loved the way they fitted, they hugged your body and outlined the things you wanted to reveal, and concealed the things you didn't. Anyone who says that high street clothes are the same as designer clothes has never tried on an Oscar De La Renta gown, and felt the way the royal blue material flows down the contours of your shape perfectly. The meager wage that I would earn from a small job in Forks would never pay for me to sustain my designer clothing addiction, so i would have to revert to the high street/thrift store clothes. _Urgh, wearing someone else's clothes._ I desperately needed new clothes; the scantily clad dresses and skirts I had brought fromArizona not suitable for the constant downpour in Forks.

I slouched downstairs, flicking on the kettle as my body's craving for caffeine increased. Looking through the cupboards, I realized Charlie must eat out a lot, as the total amount of food in there consisted of a tin of beans, a packet of Jell-O and some cheese crackers. Not like I ate much, so the scarce amount of food was a blessing for me; trying to suppress the cravings for junk food whilst sat in a house fully stocked with crisps, chocolate and fizzy pop was not the easiest thing to do.

The shrill _brring_ of the phone made me jump, and I quickly scrambled up to answer it.

"Hello, its Edward." A velvety voice spoke.

"Oh, hey Edward, what's up?" I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to take another lesson today? If your not busy, of course."

"Sure, that would be great. There's no chance of me being busy, really, except from finding a job, but that can most defiantly wait." I grinned.

He chuckled down the phone, "Okay, I'll stop by your house in about half an hour."

"No problem, see you then!" I placed the phone back on the receiver and anticipation danced inside of me. I couldn't wait to see Edward again, but for what reason, I didn't know.

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**Please, please, PLEASE review. It means so much :) Also, there isnt a Polyvore with this one, as there just isnt enough items listed. **


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